THE HIDDEN TRACK

The following passages are dedicated to Leopold, to the vernacular, to certain evil women (you know who you are), to certain wonderful people(they know who they are), to soft afternoons and quiet Sunday evenings, to Fall and seeing your breath for the first time since Spring, and to Isabelle Ya Feng ... a soul slipped by like two ships passing in the still, moonlit sea.
-- Abraham Ahmed, the Surfing Beatnik



The Nodding of the Passenger Train...








I swear to the gods
that my heart may very well
march forth from my chest!


My eyes affixed on her sleeping
against cabin-car-window
dreaming of dancing on seas in the west.

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